Chapter Text
Crowley clung to the shadows as he snuck quietly down the dark hallway, making his way to Aziraphale’s room. He didn’t need to sneak really; no one was up and about at this time of night except the guards, and they didn’t usually come this deep into the castle unless there was a good reason. But, if Crowley was going to be sneaking around in the middle of the night, he was going to sneak. It felt right creeping around and slipping carefully through the door, shutting it softly behind him.
“What are you doing up?” hissed a voice from the far side of the room.
Crowley grinned and, forgetting all about being sneaky, ran across the room and jumped onto the bed. He bounced twice, then sat up with his legs crossed. “You’re up too,” he pointed out. There was a single candle flickering on the bedside table, and Aziraphale was propped up against his pillows, book in hand.
“Well, you know, I’m not really up. I’m just reading,” Aziraphale protested. “And anyway you know I don’t sleep much.”
He didn’t say “unlike you,” but Crowley heard it. He shrugged. “It’s too bright outside.” Crowley’s eyes didn’t handle bright lights well – he had to wear sunglasses during the day – and the Northern Lights were going crazy right now. “The sky’s awake, so I’m awake, so let’s do something.”
“We can’t do anything. You’re not even supposed to be in here right now,” Aziraphale said.
“No one cares,” Crowley said. Aziraphale gave him a flat look and Crowley made a face back. “Fine. But they shouldn’t care. It’s not like we’re doing anything. And anyway we’re going to be married someday, so it wouldn’t even matter if we were doing something.”
“But we’re not married yet, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, soft and insistent. “So we shouldn’t be doing ‘anything.’ We can’t.” Crowley pressed his lips together. He hadn’t meant it like that. Not mostly.
He flopped back onto Aziraphale’s bed with an exaggerated sigh. Aziraphale looked away and licked his lips nervously. Crowley’s eyes latched onto the motion and then he couldn’t look away. He’d kissed those lips two days ago. He had. It had been ages since they’d seen each other, not since last summer, and after the whole big ceremony with the royal family of Arendelle welcoming the delegation from the Southern Isles, blah, blah, blah, Crowley had pulled Aziraphale out to the garden and asked if he could try something. Aziraphale had said yes, so Crowley had sort of just… pushed him up against a tree and kissed him. On the mouth. And he still didn’t really get why adults made such a big deal over it, but he had liked it and wanted to do it again. Aziraphale didn’t though. Not yet. Crowley could tell. Crowley could always tell when Aziraphale meant no even when he didn’t say it, just like he could tell when Aziraphale said no and didn’t really mean it.
He didn’t think anyone else got it. How when Aziraphale wrung his hands and scrunched his eyebrows together in just that way it meant “please stop,” and when instead his eyes did the little sideways dart motion in your direction it meant, “convince me.” Aziraphale’s parents definitely didn’t get it. But Crowley got it, and Aziraphale knew he got it, which Crowley figured was the most important thing.
He rolled onto his stomach, rested his chin in his hands, and grinned up at his best friend, his betrothed, the best and most important person in the whole wide world that Crowley was definitely going to get to kiss again someday when he was ready for it. “Hey, Aziraphale.”
“Yes?” Aziraphale eyes darted sidewise to look at him. Crowley’s grin grew.
“Do you want to build a snowman?”
“A snowman, we can’t build a snowman,” Aziraphale said, but Crowley could see the way he corners of his lips were twitching upward.
“Course we can. You’ve just got to do a little…” Crowley held his hands in front of him and wiggled his fingers in Aziraphale’s direction.
“I can’t do that,” Aziraphale said sounding scandalized, though really Crowley didn’t know how else Aziraphale was expecting them to make snowmen. It was summer; there wasn’t any snow outside. “You know I’m not allowed to use my powers until your parents and all the other Southern Isles people leave for the summer. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you I have them.”
“Everyone else doesn’t leave for another week,” Crowley said.
“And then we have two whole months to make snowmen in before we have to take you back home,” said Aziraphale.
“But I’m awake now. I don’t want to wait another week,” Crowley whined. “Besides, making snowmen will be good practice for you with your powers, won’t it?”
“Practice?” Aziraphale repeated, his voice lilting up just a little bit. Oh yes, Crowley had him.
“Practice. You can’t get better at using your powers if you don’t practice,” said Crowley.
Aziraphale’s book had been sitting open in his lap, but now he stuck his finger in it to hold his place and shut it. “My parents do want me to master my powers.”
“Exactly!” said Crowley. “And what better time to practice than at the middle of the night when no one’s around to get in the way and bother you?”
“Except for you,” Aziraphale said.
“Except for me,” Crowley agreed, still grinning.
“Oh all right,” Aziraphale said, pretending he was reluctant like Crowley couldn’t see right through him. He grabbed his bookmark and placed his book down on the bedside table.
Meanwhile, Crowley had rolled back over and leaped off the bed. He danced impatiently as he waited for Aziraphale to put his stupid slippers on. “Your feet don’t even get cold,” he said.
“But they can get dirty,” said Aziraphale, looking pointedly down at Crowley’s bare feet.
Crowley responded by kicking one of his legs up so Aziraphale could see the bottom of his foot and then looked at it himself. “Yep, pretty dirty. Now c’mon, let’s go.”
He reached out and grabbed Aziraphale’s hand. Aziraphale twined their fingers together, and the two of them raced down the hall to the ballroom.
As soon as they shut the double doors behind them, Crowley turned to Aziraphale. “Alright, let’s see the magic.”
Aziraphale gave him a look like he was an idiot and pointed at that coat closet in the corner of the room.
“Fine,” Crowley said, sighing heavily as he trudged over there. Aziraphale’s parents probably would have preferred if they could make him practice his magic outside all the time, but that wasn’t always possible. And inside, the ballroom was the only place even remotely big enough for Aziraphale to really let his powers out. So the king and queen had had the room redecorated with things that wouldn’t get water damage and set up a coat closet in the corner full of cold weather gear. Crowley’s old stuff from last year didn’t fit him anymore – his mom said he’d been growing like a weed and he was starting to look like one too – and they hadn’t stocked the closet with new ones for this year yet, so he grabbed some of Aziraphale’s things. Not that Aziraphale needed to wear warm clothing, he didn’t get cold, but his parents made him put it on anyway because they were dumb.
Once he was all covered up, he stalked back over to Aziraphale and stuck his tongue out at him. “There, happy now?”
“This is serious, Crowley,” Aziraphale insisted. “The cold is dangerous; it kills people. I don’t want you to get sick or hurt because of me.”
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Crowley said. He buried his face in his scarf trying to hide his expression and pretend like he didn’t secretly like it when Aziraphale fussed over him. Crowley’s parents fussed over him too, sometimes, when they remembered, when they weren’t distracted by one of Crowley’s eleven older siblings, but it always meant more coming from Aziraphale. “So are we going to do some magic or what?”
Aziraphale smiled at him. Crowley suspected he hadn’t been fooled by Crowley’s very smooth face-in-the-scarf manoeuvre. He held his hands up and twirled them about one another. Blue light appeared and after a moment a snowball was floating suspended in the air between his hands. “Ready?” he asked.
“Always,” Crowley said.
Aziraphale threw the snowball up in the air. It exploded apart into a thousand fragments, each one multiplying as it drifted down until a massive pile of snow had fallen, leaving a perfectly clear space in the centre where the two of them were standing. “You’re amazing,” Crowley said.
Aziraphale ducked his head and blushed. “Thank you. Oh, and look what else I learned.” He stomped his foot on the ground and gave it a little twist. Ice spread from his foot and across the floor until it was covering the room from wall to wall. “I’ve almost got it thick enough to skate on,” he added excitedly.
“Oh yeah, I bet I can skate across it right now,” Crowley said. He took off running and allowed his borrowed boots to slip and slide across the ice until they slipped right out from under him and he fell to the ground laughing.
“Are you alright?” Aziraphale asked, picking his way across the snow in Crowley’s direction.
“’M fine,” Crowley answered once he’d stopped laughing enough to do it. “Told you I could skate.”
“You didn’t skate, you slid and fell,” said Aziraphale.
“I’ll show you sliding and falling.” Crowley sat up, crossed his legs, and pushed himself across the ice. He slid faster and faster and rammed himself right into Aziraphale’s legs, sending him toppling over.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale yelped. Crowley tried to get up and dart away, but before he could Aziraphale shoved a hand that was magically suddenly filled with snow down the back of Crowley’s shirt.
“That’s cheating!” Crowley said. He tried to gather up his own handful of snow to shove down Aziraphale’s shirt, but Crowley actually had to pick the snow up off the ground, unlike some people, and by the time he’d done that, Aziraphale had already gotten away. Instead Crowley took a running leap at him and tackled him into another snow drift. “Got you.”
Aziraphale didn’t look like he was plotting his next move. He didn’t look defeated either. He was just looking up at Crowley with a really weird expression, then he licked his lips again and, oh, their faces were really close together, weren’t they? Close enough that Crowley could – Aziraphale’s eyebrows scrunched together and he looked away. Crowley rolled off him and flopped down onto the snow.
“I like your snow,” Crowley said. “It’s way better than regular snow.”
“You’ve never even seen regular snow,” Aziraphale said. He wasn’t wrong. Arendelle got lots of snow in the winter according to Aziraphale, but Crowley was only ever here in the summer, and it didn’t snow in the Southern Isles at all.
Crowley shrugged. He looked over at Aziraphale out of the corner of his eye. “Yours is still better. I can just tell.”
Aziraphale smiled and his cheeks flushed. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
“Course I do,” Crowley said. He reached over to nudge Aziraphale’s hand with his own. “You made it; why wouldn’t I like it?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I just…”
Crowley turned his head to look at Aziraphale straight on. “Sometimes you what?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Aziraphale said. “Did you say you wanted to build a snowman?”
That was changing the subject, but Crowley decided he’d let him. “Nah, we’ve built tons of snowmen. Let’s build a snow… snow-something.”
“A snow horse,” Aziraphale said.
Crowley was pretty sure Aziraphale was suggesting that to tease him because he knew how much Crowley hated horses. But those were horses, and this was a snow horse. They were completely different. And a snow horse sounded like a real challenge to make.
It was a challenge, and they had to cheat and use Aziraphale’s powers some, and the horse still came out a little lopsided, but the finished product was definitely a horse.
“He’s missing something,” Crowley declared when he stepped back to look at their creation.
“A saddle and bridle?” suggested Aziraphale.
Crowley shook his head. “No, Shem’s a free spirit; he wouldn’t let just anyone ride him.” That gave him the perfect idea for what was missing, and he grabbed two big handfuls of snow and started shaping it
“Shem?” Aziraphale said.
“You don’t like it?”
“No, no, I didn’t say that,” Aziraphale said. “I’ll get used to it.”
“Were you thinking of a different name?” Crowley asked.
“Well, Olaf, but I guess that’s more of a snowman name, not a snow horse,” Aziraphale said.
“He’s not a snow horse,” Crowley said. He finished shaping the cone of snow in his hands and placed it on the centre of Shem’s forehead. “He’s a snow unicorn.”
Aziraphale’s whole face brightened. “A unicorn!”
“Thought you’d like that,” said Crowley, feeling a warm flush of pride and joy at seeing how happy he’d made Aziraphale. “And now that he’s done, we can make your Olaf the snowman if you like.”
“Oh, but with a unicorn, it has to be a snow maiden, doesn’t it?”
Crowley shrugged. “Don’t see why it can’t be both.” That was probably more snow beings than he really wanted to make tonight, but he could be up for it if that was what Aziraphale wanted to do. Plus if it got really boring he could try convincing Aziraphale to make one of the snow people just by using his magic. Crowley always loved watching Aziraphale do magic.
“I don’t think we have time to do both. In fact” – Aziraphale’s face got all fretful – “I don’t think we have time to do either. It’s getting really late.”
Crowley scowled. He didn’t like that. It was getting late, and honestly Crowley was getting tired, but he didn’t want to say any of that out loud. If he said it out loud, then that meant it was time for Aziraphale to sweep all the ice and snow out the window and then for the two of them to go back upstairs and into their separate bedrooms all alone. Crowley probably wouldn’t even mind the first part that much if he could go back to Aziraphale’s bedroom and lie down on the bed across from Aziraphale or even on the couch on the other side of the room and the two of them could keep talking until he fell asleep. But if they did that they would definitely get caught and get in trouble. Even then Crowley would have done it, but Aziraphale hated it when either of them got in trouble. So if he wanted to keep hanging out, he’d have to keep them up.
Crowley glanced around the room, then grinned when he spotted the little hill of snow they’d created while making Shem. “Catch me,” he said as he took off racing toward it.
“What? I’m not going to chase you; it’s late,” Aziraphale protested.
“Don’t chase me. Catch me,” Crowley repeated, as he reached the top of the hill and jumped off. At the last second Aziraphale understood what Crowley was saying and shot a burst of magic, creating another hill of snow for Crowley to land on. Crowley planted his feet, then pushed off again, sailing through the air and coming down on another newly created hill, this one a little taller than the last one. “I bet we could get all the way to the ceiling doing this,” he declared, and jumped again.
He kept jumping from one hill to the next, going quicker each time. Quicker and quicker until he was barely touching down before he leaped off again, was practically sprinting form one to the next. “Wait, stop,” Aziraphale called, but Crowley didn’t want to stop. He was having fun with Aziraphale and he didn’t ever want to stop, to have to go back up to his bedroom, quiet and alone and cold. Somehow everywhere was always colder without Aziraphale around. “Slow down! You go too fast for me, Crowl—“
Crowley saw it happen. Saw the how Aziraphale’s slippers – slippers, he was still wearing slippers, he’d made Crowley go change and put on heavy boots, but Aziraphale was still wearing slippers – slid on the ice, sending Aziraphale tumbling to the ground. He saw the panicked expression on Aziraphale’s face as he looked up at Crowley, still flying through the air. Oh, Crowley thought. Oh. He’s not going to catch me. For one short eternal moment, Crowley fell. The Aziraphale’s hand shot up, and everything went dark.